Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Sufficient Unto This Day

Last week, I almost quit blogging. Almost.

I wasn`t going to say anything about it. If I had quit, I would have gone totally silently into that good blogless night. There wouldn`t have been a post angsting about whether or not to quit; there wouldn`t have been a post proclaiming some long goodbye. I was just not ever going to post again. Which, I know, is kind of douchey, but still.

I was not going to post again, because the imperative to post was hurting my heart and making me crazy in a week during which I felt, strongly, that I simply could not post, that it would be wrong to post, that it would be wrong, somehow, to even Twitter all the fears and anxieties that I was struggling to contain. I wanted to write, but my preferred forum for writing was closed to me, or so I felt. I ached to write, to write anything, even just 140 characters proclaiming my fear; my fingers twitched, desperate to tap messages into my phone as we circled Emilia's bed in the hospital, as we fretted and worried and paced. I am so scared, I typed, I am so scared. And then my fingers retracted their message, backspaced, deleted, and I resumed my pacing, my worrying. What could I possibly accomplish, publishing my fear? And how hollow, how terribly, selfishly, hollow to whine vacantly into the void when others were living and sharing darker fears. Realizing darker fears, the worst fears. What would I be doing, to add my own selfish anxieties to that chorus of pain?

No pain is hollow, of course. Seeing my daughter slumped and incoherent, eyes sunken in dark sockets, skin white and hot, was terrifying and horrible and I felt my anxiety in every moment as a strangling hurt, a terrible pressure against my lungs and throat that threatened to cut off my breath. But that was only my hurt, my fear, and although I know that every parent understands how terrible that hurt and how horrible that fear, it was not the time to share it, it was not the time to reach out. It was simply not the time.

Which invites the question: is it ever the time? This is a rhetorical question, of course, because, yes, yes, there is always a time for expressing and sharing fear or anxiety or sadness or all of these together. If we never shared these experiences, we would not know that they are common, ordinary even. We would not know that pain is something that we all live through. We would not know that it is something that we share. And we would never be able to find community in and through our pain, if we didn`t express it, share it.

But doesn`t sharing the pain, sometimes, just exascerbate it? Doesn't it become, sometimes, a sort of twisted indulgence, a way of lingering in an ache and prolonging the sensation of hurt, in the same manner as scratching compulsively at an itch, even though it causes us bleed? If I write my hurt, am I expunging it or clinging to it? And if I draw others into my circle of anxiety, does it serve to comfort all of us - by underlining how common the experience - or does it serve to discomfit all of us - by making the experience common, by forcing others to live it, vicariously? Do I want community, or do I want attention? Can these two desires even be distinguished?

My anxiety about writing through my fear last week reduced to these three concerns - that I wanted to write because I wanted to wallow in that fear, that by wallowing, publicly, in my fear I'd be forcing others to experience that fear (in a week when fear and pain were already in too great supply) and that my writing/wallowing might be construed as attention-seeking (look! look! I hurt too! come see my pain!) - and these conspired to shut me down. And so shut down I did: I unplugged my computer and disabled e-mail on my phone and resolved that the only writing that I would do would be with pen and paper and kept entirely private. And then I cried. A lot. Because blogging has, in the worst of times, been a lifeline for me, a way of working through the pain and fear of struggling with depression and with the challenges of motherhood and with the general anxieties and regrets of a life well lived and with the looming spectre of death. And so the thought of abandoning it - of being abandoned by it - was terrifying, gut-wrenching.

And so I decided to not decide. I would simply not write about my pain that week, and hope that I would somehow grow an ability write light-heartedly and humorously so that I might not be so often an agent for spreading dark and gloom across the internets. And then Monday came and Emilia seemed better and so there was something happy to say - Emilia seems better! - and so I opened my computer and said it and the universe didn`t collapse in on itself, so. Baby steps.

I still don`t know how I`ll handle writing about Tanner, whose condition is worsening, and about how I`m going to explain the fact of his inevitable death to Emilia (something that becomes ever more pressing with every question she asks about his disabilities), and about lost siblings and hurt parents and depression and darkness and faith and all those terrible, difficult things that seem to have become my stock in writing trade. I just don`t know. I do know that I will write about them, sooner rather than later, just as I know that I will, someday - later rather than sooner - stop writing this blog. But I`m not going to worry about those things now.

For now, I`m just going to keep writing, and see what happens.

You can tell me, honestly - is there such a thing as oversharing hurt? Do I do it? Do I need - do we all need - to bring less angst and more happy? DOES THE INTERNET NEED MORE UNICORNS?I think maybe.

104 Comments:

Im am sorry to hear the difficult times you and your family has been enduring... You should write WHATEVER your heart pleases. You have the freedom to open and close the comments to the posts. YOur choice, your decision. YOUR BLOG! :) I am sure you will do what you think is the best.

I had drinks with my best friend last Friday night, and while we sipped cosmos, we heard a loud bang. From our seats at the bar, we could see a horrible car crash outside. Two people were trapped in a car. They burned to death. We watched.

I've tried to write about it numerous times since then, but my pain? NOTHING. Nothing compared to the parents that had to bury those two teenagers. Nothing compared to the teenaged classmates, who until Friday felt invincible. Nothing.

Thanks for not giving up. And I'm SO glad things are getting better for you and yours. Much love.

You know how when you're fighting with your spouse or your mom or your friend, and if you open your mouth at the right second, horribleness comes out? But if you just take a walk around the block, come back and think for a second, you can make it all right?

That's how I handle what you're talking about on my own site.

I would never, ever not write about the hard stuff in my life. The whole point of this, for me, is to leave myself a trail of breadcrumbs for later. Just like you, I never am sure what I can say, what I should say, what is too little or not enough. But I'd never quit this. I just write it all in a draft and take a walk. In a week, in a month, in a year...whenever I'm ready, THEN I post it. I never do the hard stuff as it's happening. Because it makes me feel more vulnerable. And I need that, yeah.

I think we all need to keep bringing ourselves. Happy, sad, tired, whatever; we are sounding a barbaric yalp, yo. For ourselves, for each other.

Don't you ever quit, woman. And if you need help with the Tanner talk, I have that one in the bag. Call me anytime, sugar.

You know what? This is gonna sound weird, but I don't write about the big stuff. (Of course, this could be why you have eleventymillion more readers than I do... :) But really, I keep the most important stuff close to my heart, and I write around it. When it's the most important stuff, I write feelings rather than events, and I still get the therapeutic value of writing and working things out. And then I know what I mean, and the people closest to me know what I mean, and sometimes (for as much as we honor our beloved bloggy relationships) we have to honor our IRL people in that way, too, you know? By giving them some things that are not for public consumption, like whispered gifts.

I don't know. I'm just saying I get it, and I'm sorry for your pain, and I'm so relieved your girl is better, and I'm grateful your blog is still here.

oh god, i'm so sorry. i was wondering where you'd gone in that week, and it all made sense when you told us how sick emilia had been. i just didn't realize that this had been the full reason for it. and for what it's worth, i think the fact that i'm completely SHOCKED that you felt it would be inappropriate to post about it means that that particular fear was unfounded. what i can tell you is, no matter how much crap goes on in the world all at the same time, there's a community around these parts of blogland that wants nothing more than to be there for you when you need it. and so there's no question of 'it wasn't the time,' because it's *always* the time. this is YOUR blog, and your avenue of writing about what's happening in your life. it saddens me that you felt you couldn't do that, but please, never doubt the ability to do that again. there would have been no judging, none whatsoever, because what are we supposed to say? you purposefully made your daughter ill at just this moment to gain attention? even the dimmest of the internet trolls can see how absurd that is, i think.

and look, if we need less angst and more happy, none of the writing on the internet would be real. the rawness of posts that convey what's really happening is what make them amazing. quite honeestly, if everything was happy, i wouldn't be here reading any blogs.

I think maybe *Catherine* needs more unicorns in her life right now. And that's not a slam on what you write, it's a simple fact. You have a lot of stuff going on right now and a unicorn or two could not go amiss.

I don't know - I am like the ultimate anti-blogger. I cannot blog depressed. I simply stop writing. It's the joy of life I am compelled to share, the sorrow I keep to myself unexpressable. I may be in the minority. Quite frankly, I think yours in the healthier approach. The suppressed indignities of life eat at you from the inside out, because ultimately you can't keep them buried.

I personally feel that sometimes saying it out load (or writing about it) let's you get the fear portion out of your chest so that you can breath. Do I think that it can be too much ... honestly ... no ... if someone can't handle reading it then they can move along and come back later. You need to be able to have a space to get things off your chest - and if it feels like it's too much to you ... then you can keep those entries private :-D

Without sorrow and pain ... how would we know what happiness truly was? Life doesn't just give us one emotion ... life is complicated that way.

I don't know the answer. I do know that reading about the hurts and losses of other people in the blogosphere has both humbled me and fueled my anxiety. I try to appreciate my life more, not sweat the small stuff. But at the same time, I carry the stories around in my heart and it is feeling so heavy and full and, um, fearful? I dont' know if that's the right word. I just know that I have been feeling like the world is, simultaneously, a beautiful place with caring, lovely people, and a scary place where very bad things happen. Maybe that's the real reason why I shut my blog down recently. I wanted to respect my growing kids' privacy but I think I also needed a break from it all. More unicorns, as you say.

Interesting post. I have a blog, although I don't share with everyone like you do (shyness? fear of boring others? not sure why I don't share). But I started my blog as a way to cope with my son's heart defects and all the struggles that come with parenting a heart healthy kid and a kid with a wonky heart. For me, it's therapeutic to write it out, to re-read my thoughts and frustrations and joys. I turn to it fairly often as I am overwhelmed. Keeping it all inside makes it worse, at least for me. Sharing it, even if nobody reads it, helps a lot. (so does screaming into the night sky, but blogging is a little less crazy looking). Share what you need to, don't feel pressured to share more or less than you want to. And if you don't want to share, just write it out for you and keep it private. It might help.Very glad your little girl is starting to feel better. I know too well how hard it is to watch helplessly as a child is desperately, mysteriously ill.((hugs))

I think it's a question of balance--balancing the sharing of pain with the sharing of laughter. Too much of one without the leavening of the other either makes us wallow or makes us false.

Life involves both, and so should blogging. And if writing is that necessary, than it should be done. As a mentor to Max Lucado once told him, don't do [whatever it is you feel "called" to do] unless you have to.

It sounds to me like you have to. Just try, each day, to find the balance between the angst and the unicorns, and above all else, write what's real.

maybaby says it best and my own feelings of late are that until I can wrap my head around the feelings that events of late have created then "no news is good news" when the time is right the words will flow until then, keep on searching for those unicorns

I wrote about something similar, although not so artful stated, this morning. I do think that the world needs a few more unicorns. But I also know that it is foolish to make yourself believe that there is a world with no hurt in it. I think that we all need to take the blows and keep our heads held high and offer the support we can to those who need it. There is nothing that we can't overcome if we deal with it together ... keep sharing your stories, but don't stop looking for the unicorns either.

Last week, when you were at the hospital with your child, I read your occasional tweets and thought My God, how scared she must be. And how difficult it must be to communicate that fear, as if to pronounce your fear would somehow deplete the store of meaning that tragedy contains. And to somehow invoke a tragedy by referencing it (See? Even I can't say what the tragedy is). I was relieved when you returned from the hospital. But anyway, keep writing.

I've been thinking about this same thing a whole lot. I've always over-shared on my blog. My personality does it for me. I'm not guarded and I'm not all that happy-go-lucky. I like sunshine and unicorn blogs, but I love REAL blogs. Because when someone shares the depths of who they are and how they see life, I find myself moved to change.

I had hoped the same would happen through my blog and then I received an email that said, "if you ever doubt the heart of God, if you ever wonder if His miracles are wrought through human hands, just know that you've poured many of those miracles into my life. Your words span the chasm that others dare not bridge. You write heartfelt posts of truth and beauty, even when that beauty is the horrifying truth of worlds racked in pain."

OK now. She was waaay too nice. Most of my posts are about nothing. But when I choose to share my heart, I just do. I did that through my son's illness and surgery and it probably WAS selfish, it was for ME and I needed it. And to know that even one person was moved by that over-sharing...well, I guess it's all good.

I just want someone, anyone, who reads a post in which I spill my guts to say, "Me too." I want to validate.

And now I've written a novel.here's a silly little example...as if you have time.http://tinyurl.com/c6hawm

Interesting, but I almost deleted mine yesterday morning. Then I didn't and posted about it, which I'm getting some flack for...along with some very sweet comments.

I think when your world is as up in the air as it was last week, when you are scared beyond belief, it makes complete sense to want to hide away. To shut out the world, is a realistic move. I can only imagine how hard it must have been to not know what was going on with Emilia. I'm thrilled to hear she is doing better. Just know, no matter what else is going on in the blog world, what is going on with you is still important. You fear is not diminished by the tragedies that have happened in the last few weeks. Your words, are still important.

I think it's natural for you to feel a bit of guilt about sharing pain, especially when you're seeing so much of it around you.

Yet, when people like me see others share it, I don't think about anything other than how much my heart would ache if I were that person, and how very lucky I am to not be hurting like that right now. Sometimes I think it's very good for us to see, very clearly, other peoples' pain. And maybe places like this are one of the few places we can do that.

And pain, family pain, is not meant to be scaled against other family pain. Losing a child, watching a sick child, dealing with a child that is disabled or even being a postpartum sad mother of two...any and all of these things are worth sharing if you feel the need. There will always be people (like me) who want to reach out...who want to help you through to the next day.

Then, when there's room for it, the unicorns just start appearing on their own. Not too late or too soon...just when it's time.

Months ago, I left my first every comment on your blog. It was about how I was pregnant and your blog was to depressing for me to read and I couldn't do it anymore. I was quite quickly reprimanded by other commenters on my poor form. which was true. Granted it was my oppinon at the time, but telling someone their life is depressing isn't cool and obviously I didn't stop reading. I blame hormones for my rudeness. Getting to my point-if your blog is an outlet to express yourself and your feelings....write on lady. I will continue to read you no matter what you write about.

I think you should write when you feel like writing, and that you should not write when you feel like not writing.

I think you should reach out to your friends when you feel it is appropriate or necessary, and deal with your thoughts in private when you feel that is appropriate or necessary.

I think you should remember thatpeople do not have to read what you write, if they feel it's upsetting and they can't handle more upset on any given day.

And now that I've dealt out my unsolicited assvice, I'll also admit that I personally regularly avoid writing about many of the events in my personal life that have changed or upset me most. That when I am overwhelmed with emotion I sometimes stop blogging for weeks at a time. And I do not know whether this has been a right course of action.

I don't think that there is any answer that anyone can give you that will change what, in your heart, is right for you to do.

When my baby died, I wrote, before and after, and then took down most of those posts. That's not how I use my blog, but that is my comfort level. And, as Maggie, Dammit says, that's one reason why you are much more read, much more sought after.

I guess you need to decide, do you want to be more sought after for those reasons. I think of Mike and Heather now. I wonder how their healing will be different, done, in part, in public. It is neither wrong, nor right, but their path.

Only you can decide your path. And what works for you.

And now that I've exhausted every cliche, I will say that I (as many I know) support whatever decision you make.

I'm glad you didn't quit blogging. What you want to write and share is of course up to you. But I personally find it easier to deal with grief and depression and everything else by having others to help me through it. I also think it's helps others to deal with similar issues they might be going through. When I don't share, I bottle it all up inside me. When I share, I am able to handle it better with people who care.

And we care, even those of us who rarely comment. We want to help you through difficult times, if you want our help.

As for "oversharing hurt," I try to balance out the hard times I write about with the joys and happiness and wonderful things in life too. And some mindless, unimportant things. We are all ocean, we contain multitudes. How boring would it be if we share only one aspect of ourselves? Just be true to yourself and write what you feel you want to share. I just hope you don't stop writing.

I'm in kinad the same boat as Maggie and Mandy - I don't really write about the really really big and painful stuff in my life - it's not what I use my blog for...

I admire that you do and I know that (in addition to your ability to craft prose) is why you are so very popular but I have to keep a little bit of the veil there otherwise I think I would burn out much more quickly and likely with regrets...

I do think there is such a thing as sharing hurt to the point where one forgets that there is beauty in this world too. I do think that even in the midst of hurt, it is important to remember to look for the small moments that have happiness and beauty, because it is those moments combined with love and time that help heal the hurt. Even just a little bit.

I am so glad that Emilia is doing better.

I'm also glad that you didn't stop blogging. But that gladness really pales in comparison to how happy I am that your daughter is okay.

I think another part of not being able to write about the truly, truly profoundly awful things is that in writing about them, you are somehow making them more real. That if you say it out loud, it will be truly too real to bear.Those are my thoughts.

I think you zeroed in on it. It's all about the why. If you are writing so that people will say Poor you, then don't. If you are writing to get it out of you and onto paper (or screen) then yeah, do it.

If you can't figure out which thing you want, then you're human and sometimes you'll do it right and sometimes you'll screw it up.

I read your blog because I feel the things you feel and that commonality makes me feel better. I've lost a child and I know that hurt, but it didn't lessen my hurt when my daughter was abused in daycare and it didn't lessen my worry when I found out she had severe hearing loss. It also doesn't lessen my hurt or fear or worry when I'm reading or hearing about someone else's kid. Hurt and fear and worry are life and you're not going to save any of us from those things by sheilding us from yours.

I am an ex blogger. I wrote a blog that was popular in the UK and I stopped blogging after my first child was born. I didn't say 'goodbye' either. I just pulled my blog one day.

I did it for a number of reasons. For one thing, I thought my best writing was achieved when I was when I was angst ridden and my happy writing ('I love being a Mum, oh yes I do') was quite frankly a bit dull. Also, I wasn't sure at one stage what was more real to me - my real life or my internet persona and my internet 'friends' who knew me only as 'Elisabeth'. That scared me.

I am now pregnant again with my second child and I've got to the stage where miss writing my blog. I have lots of thoughts and feelings on motherhood (and a variety of other topics) that I would like to commit to paper for my own memory/therapeutic benefit and also for the satisfaction of producing a good piece of writing that others appreciate. However, something stops me. I think all of the above plus a couple of new concerns:

*how to be a mummy blogger without painting an intimate potrait of my children's lives on the internet - a potrait which they did not consent to

*Twitter - not a necessary add on to blogging but a popular one. It's so immediate - the danger is that people don't reflect on what they put out there to the same extent as they do with blog posts. Plus it's so easy to twitter - the danger is Twitter addiction - are you living your life or just twittering?

*the followers of popular mummy bloggers hounding those smaller bloggers who don't agree with their chosen one. I've seen it a couple of times now. I don't like it at all. I want to believe I left the school playground behind a long time ago...

That's my personal perspective and so for the time being I am staying blog free.

If I couldn't read your blog anymore I would be sorry but I think there are plenty of legitimate reasons why bloggers pull their blogs.

I've been sitting here with the comment box open, rubbing my face trying to figure out how to say this, and I've gotten to a point now where I just need to start kicking words out. So if this is 10 times as long as it needs to be, just to get the idea out, sorry.

You asked whether you want community (by which I think you are implying "comfort") or attention. I think if by "attention" you mean glory, or the spotlight being on you, I kind of doubt that's your motive. However, I think that the point of saying these things in a public place (whether we're talking about you or any other poster) is simply to have said them, so that they can be known by others. I think that acknowledgement, that known-ness, whether it's accompanied by comforting responses or not, is its own comfort. It feels nice that someone else knows what's going on, regardless of the result of their knowledge. (well, it sucks if they're mean about it, but assuming it's a friendly person who may or may not say or do anything helpful other than just KNOWING along with you).

I guess the bottom line I need to make sure to post is this: I WANT to share your pain. As I write it out baldly like that, it doesn't seem to make much sense, but here's the best way I can explain it:

I need people to love. I have a lot of "care capacity" and by seeking out people that I can care about, I give myself those chances to use love.

My husband is completely, utterly stymied by this fact. He figures I have enough people in my life to spend my emotions on caring about. He can't imagine how having SO many people whose lives I spend time caring about won't burn me out entirely, using up all my emotion so I don't have enough to spare on those who can more legitimately claim it (my family, my IRL friends, etc).

He wants to know what I get from it, whether it's some sense of being a good person because I'm sooooo caring, or the appreciation and dependence of the people I care about, or whatever.

But the fact is, to me, loving someone, caring about someone - viewing them as important and valuing them - is its own reward.

And when you share yourself- especially the important events in your life and deep aspects of your personality, but even lighter things like sense of humor- it enables me to know you well enough to care about you.

Yeah, I know there is a line somewhere around here that is called stalking and/or dependence. I don't want you to get the impression that I'm implying you should be obligated to share anything for my sake!!!

But the sentence where you implied feeling guilt for enabling others to feel your pain with you really made me shake my head. I wish I was there enough, and familiar enough, that I could hug you, grab you under the jaw and make you look into my eyes so that you'll REALLY understand that we - meaning at least I -welcome it. It is not true that I enjoy being worried, but it is right for your friends to care along with you, to join in your joys, fears, questions and discoveries.

And if anyone debates whether I can legitimately consider you my friend, when you probably have a very sketchy idea of who I even am... I'll say to them just as I did to Tanis: loving someone makes a friend of you both.

I consider you my friend because I care about you. I consider myself your friend because I care about you.

I do hope that I don't come across as an obsessed stalker person when I send you a tweet unsolicited or post fifteen-mile long comments about how much I care about you. To mitigate any fear you may have, just know I have been trying to come up with ways to non-idiotically convey the same thing to Tanis and Heather, and I'm getting to that point with Jennifer (MckMama, Stellan's mom), among others.

Finally, as regards the timing of your trauma - this month has ranged from devastating down to just yucko, it seems. Besides the abovementioned, you've got gorillabuns (thalon's mom), Angie (audreycaroline's mom) hitting the one year anniversary, @Amomtwoboys at the hospital last night, @dooce's leta with a fever, and I just wasted another 20 minutes trying to research/find whoever else it was.

ANYhow my point is, you're, um, allowed (?) to have trauma at the same time as someone else, and just because their trauma might out-tragic yours, doesn't mean yours isn't valid. Just because my guy's three days of horrid runny nose cold (which he oh-so-kindly shared with my pregnant self causing me to be in a fog of misery for my own three days) can't compete with the horror of having one in the hospital, doesn't mean that the minor misery I do have is not real. It's not as bad as yours, but it's not "fine", either. Ya know?

I was going to say something nifty to wrap this up but I think I already said it all. I'm listening, and caring, whenever you're posting.

I'm new here, and I don't know your whole story. So maybe this is an objective comment? Anyway, I want to say this: It's your blog, and you should write what you darn well feel like, okay? However, if it is bothering you to think you are sending negativity out, well, just balance it! Post a pretty flower picture in between rants. :)

I am so very glad your daughter is ok.The questions you ask are complex and in some ways impossible to answer.These past few weeks have been so horrible for mommies in the blogosphere. I have to admit that I had to stop reading their stories, because I found myself crying and clutching my 7 month old baby desperately to my chest. Empathy is wonderful, but it's also painful.This is your blog, so you should always strive to be authentic to your feelings and your thoughts. Nobody need have an opinion about what you should and shouldn't write. But I suppose we, the readers, should by the same token reserve the right to stop reading, perhaps only for a little while, if living vicariously through your words becomes too painful to bear.

Very good questions you put out there. If you stopped blogging, I'd feel like one of my "legitimate" examples of bloggers who wear their hearts on their sleeves would be gone, and for the very reason that so many in my family are opposed to blogging: blogging, they say, is a crass and dangerous way to share one's pain, and a sleazy way to seek recognition, attention, and community. (They are old-schoolers, of course, and I don't agree, but the medium of blogging does, I think, raise a lot of important concerns. The way the personal can be publicized so vastly and so instantly is radically changing society's notions about privacy, friendship, trust, and loyalty).

But you have achieved it all, so to speak, in the blogosphere, and with much dignity. I am a blogger in the same vein as you (I talk about the personal), and I often wonder what your kind of celebrity would mean to me if I achieved it. Though I crave it, I think I'd feel a bit oppressed by it, too, and in danger of losing my joy, as well as perhaps some important sense of personal integrity. I say "in danger of" because I don't think that's a certain outcome, but it's one I think one needs to guard against, especially when one's blogging motives are mixed (or have become mixed). Your personal stories and your emotions are also your business -- your livelihood to an extent -- and I imagine that's a tricky spot to be in.

Someone else mentioned the mob mentality in the blogosphere and I do think this is an ugly aspect of blogging as I have discovered it in the last six months. Without impugning your following, you certainly have attracted some uncritical thinkers as devotees. Your site is one I enjoy reading for the posts, much more than for the comments. And interestingly, there are sites out there that present the opposite dynamic; the views of the writer are not so interesting as those of the readership. The blogosphere is certainly a weird place!

I was worried about you but unsure of what to do about it. I thought about asking after you on Twitter but that felt a bit like fear mongering.......should I have sent an email? I dunno, we are almost complete strangers but I felt your absence and I was concerned.

I just realised that because I have been mulling over the 'to blog or not to blog' issue for some time now I got caught up in my own reasons in my previous comment - not the issue you specifically raised.

In that regard, I think broadcasting intimate details of your personal life is your choice. The positive of doing that for me was that is was a kind therapy - I don't think writing about pain made me wallow it either, I think it helped me deal with it and move on.

On the other hand, the negative aspect of being so intimate with my pain on the internet was that I became confused about who it was more important to confide in - my internet friends or my 'real' friends. When I realised I told the internet more than the people I knew in my 'real' life on a regular basis I was quite uncomfortable with that when I reflected on it.

However, in relation to the idea of having a responsibility to your readership to shield them from the worst of your pain - that was never a big issue for me. People will read what they want to read and will go away and not come back if they don't like it.

All that said, I do think that blogging about children is a special issue which is fraught with difficulties. I was quite happy to destroy my own privacy by blogging (my choice) but I am fiercely protective of my children's privacy. And sometimes I cringe at the things that some mummy bloggers do.

The other day Dooce (whose writing I do actually really like a lot of the time) took a picture of her sick daughter lying on the couch and posted it on the web. I hated that. And sometimes I see a picture of a child mid-tandrum on a blog and I think 'why are you not addressing your child's emotions - why are you *photographing* it?'

As well as photographs very personal descriptions of the ups and downs of a child's life by his or her mother on a blog is something that makes me quite uncomfortable. At the end of the day, the child is too young to understand the significance of having an internet persona and so is too young to make a decision about what to do with his or her privacy.

So yeah, in summary, I am happy for an adult's pain to be out there raw and fresh on the internet (if that's what the adult wants to do) - a child's pain - no thank you very much.

In my opinion, it just depends on the blogger. Yes, there are people who enjoy being the victim and take it too far and talk about it too much. But in my experience those people are few and far between (and you do not seem like one of them). Some people find it therapeutic to share their pain and receive encouragement, even from strangers and others feel their hurts are too private or too important to put out on the internet for anyone to see. I don't think there's a right or wrong. If it's helpful for you to write it then write it. There will always be people who judge. It's none of their business. It's your hurt and your choice. To me, the beauty of this community is seeing the best and the worst that people experience. If people don't want to read about it they can go elsewhere. Peace to you. (shannon@livinginthegray.com)

First, I am glad Emilia is feeling better. Second, part of the reason I read oyur blog is because your writing is honest, open and real. Sometimes, reading about the happiness, aches and so forth, helps take my mind off my own issues-so it is not just about me. As a mom, it allows me to connect with someone who understands and realizes life is not all about flowers and smiley faces. If what you write makes a reader feel depressed or unhappy, they have the option to click on another link and move on. So, keep writing. Enough said.

When I first encountered the world of blogs I was searching for someone that felt pain like me, thought about the hard things I thought about, I wanted something real, not the fake life is perfect and cupcakes and unicorns!

Online I found humanity and gut-wrenching truth. Even though the deaths/tragedies in the lives of my online families upset me just as much as the real-life ones, I read on. Every word I read and every comment I leave provides me with a sense of community I never experienced before.

So write on because people like me need you, specially if what you're sharing is not a perfect rainbow but the truth.

Two points to make: First, Maddie's passing doesn't mean that your pain is less important. It is scary and painful when our children get as sick as Emilia was, and if that is what you are feeling then you should write it.

Second, I am not a writer. I wish that I was because it would be so therapeutic to be able to write down my feelings and get them out of me. Instead, I read blogs, nearly 100 of them. It helps me immensely to know that there are others out there going through some of the same things. Please don't censor yourself. If a post is too painful for someone to read, then they can skip it or not read you any more....

I am so glad your little girl is getting better. You have alot on your plate at the moment, Catherine.I have come to love this blog for many reasons. Mainly I love your writing, honesty and obviously your humour. I think when you share something difficult, you do so with dignity and grace. I feel honoured that you share your life with me/us.Do what feels comfortable for you. My thoughts and prayers to you.J.

I am so glad your little girl is getting better. You have alot on your plate at the moment, Catherine.I have come to love this blog for many reasons. Mainly I love your writing, honesty and obviously your humour. I think when you share something difficult, you do so with dignity and grace. I feel honoured that you share your life with me/us.Do what feels comfortable for you. My thoughts and prayers to you.J.

If you write about death/fear/illness because those are things rearing up in your life and it helps you to try to describe them, then chronicling your difficulties online will probably not be wallowing. Writing about the bad stuff can be a healthy thing during times of chaos or sadness.

OTOH, if a blogger is drawn to fear/death/worry posts mostly because he notes the spike in readership other bloggers facing tragedy get ... Well, that's all about ego. And writing anything just for fans is ultimately going to feel like an empty soul suck.

Just be honest with yourself about your motives. The answer of what to write about will likely sort itself out from there.

Yes, you could've written and blogged about your pain. You have no responsibility to us, to your readers; we can easily NOT READ if we don't want to. So, in the future, do what helps you most and don't add to your own pain by denying yourself comfort. Be kind to yourself.

Its good to mull over our intentions and motivations now and then. But there is a difference in becoming like some of those creepy sites, than what you are doing which is rather like art. And that sometimes comes from darker places than light and that is okay. If you have a gift , sharing it has merit. Seeking validation and popularity is s byproduct of the blog world, but we have to pull back from it ( or not buy into it as it feels so much like commerce) Just sayin.

I'm glad Emilia is okay. And I'm glad you are still blogging. I happened upon your blog almost a year ago and I check it daily - you're one of my favorites. For one thing, you are an outstanding writer. And for another, I feel like I would really like you and enjoy knowing you if we ever met in real life. Because I only "know" you through your blog, I am writing this based on what I have read in these pages and I admire and respect your honesty, your genuineness, your intelligence, and your humor (you are one funny chick!). I appreciate your willingness to write about your life, both the pretty and the not-so-pretty times - it makes you that much more real. I like real and I enjoy connection when someone is willing to share the hard stuff.

Twenty-five years ago when I clutched my daughter to my breast in response to the doctor's, "She needs to go to the hospital," if there had been e-mail and twitter and blogs and the world out there of people who care or are just curious, could I have written about it? I don't know.

I was lonely, I was afraid, I was desperately focused on my child. Would writing and sharing have helped? Did I need to work it out then, or did I need to focus on my child then, and work it out later? Some people are helped by talking and some are helped by curling up in a ball.

I simply don't know. I don't know that any of us can know. We do what we do, learn a little as we go along and hope for the best.

i've been struggling with some of this myself, especially after i ran across some really nasty posts by people ripping on so-called mommy bloggers for sharing information when their kids were sick, as if the very act of twittering "OMG my child is sick" made them a bad mother. so i can understand why you might shy away. for me, blogs are about and for the people who write them, so you do as you see fit. personally, i like it when bloggers i read talk openly about what is going on - because it allows people like me to offer little words of support, which can't change anything, but at least make the day seem less, i don't know, lonely.

As for the pain and the sharing and the wallowing...I think it is a very personal decision what you need to do or feel compelled to do. I find that when I am in pain, that if I wallow in it for a while, it helps. And when I blog about it and I get advice or virtual hugs or jokes or anything, it makes me cry harder for a day and then I feel better and I feel loved and that helps.

I have not experienced, and hope not to experience, during my blogging tenure anything so devastating as what your nephew is going through. But for me, the support network that has come from blogging sustains me where the people I know in real life cannot. My online community understands what I need. My real life friends are wonderful, but they don't have special needs children. My online friends do, and I need them badly.

Your voice is a good one, and a smart one, and an engaged one. It's good to have it around. As long as you feel like writing, I (and others) will be here reading. And when you're ready to go, just let us know that you're okay first.

More unicorns? No way. What we need is more people like you who are unafraid to be honest and open and air their fears so that the rest of us can feel that we're not so alone in our thoughts and emotions.

Yeah, I do think there is such a thing as over-sharing grief. But the onus is also on the readers. It's one thing to write it and post it but an entirely different thing to be gobbling up every written word. It's a different world we are living in with this instant communication and technology, takes some getting used to.

My first few years of blogging, I was more open, and now I'm like Maggie Dammit. I write around most of the Big Stuff on my blog. I take a lot to my private journal and pour it out there.

I completely understand the dilemma between receiving support and receiving attention, of keeping perspective. *I* get tired of *my* struggles and the same old, same old from myself, so I know others must feel that way as well. It is hard to make the rounds in the blogosphere when it seems everyone is dumping grief and anxiety and insecurity on each other.I think sometimes it's good to step back and take the raw emotion elsewhere, share it another way, or wait until you have time to process the experience a bit.

Blogging is like any other relationship--people don't want to know EVERYTHING that rattles our heads and hearts.

Catherine, I made a leap myself in the last few months in dealing with the most horrible time in my life, the passing of my Dad. At first I didn't know how I could do it, blog about it, I mean...and whether it would somehow be perceived as a cheap way to get comments and sympathy... but in the end I don't know how I couldn't have done it. I did get comments and sympathy (and yours were among them) and it was reassuring, knowing that there were people out there who were really thinking about me and what our family was going through.

Just words, yes, from people that I have never met. But human words, that gave me strength, and that continue to help me through my grief whenever I post about it.

And that ain't cheap. In fact, I've found the comments validate that my words have always honoured my father and my family.

I'm glad you didn't shut it down. And I am SO GLAD that your baby girl is better.

I am leaving this anonymously, simply because I don't want for my daughter's pain to be immortalized on the interweb- but we had one of those weeks too- high fever, weird symptoms and then... a kid that got antibiotics and was fine. It could have been so different. All of the tests that they made me hold her, screaming two year old fury have made me drink- to forget- these last two days. I need to forget. I am incapacitated by my grief over not protecting her from what needed to be done, but that is what I do, the greater good, etc. I feel you, it fucking sucks to see YOUR CHILD in pain, freaking out and worried about what might happen next.

I am glad that you are back, and are still blogging. You fill a need in this world of writing.

I am the anonymous at 9:19 and I wanted to say that I missed it- that you worried about being an attention whore ( bad phrasing, but whatever, right?) You aren't. I am not. I don't think that you are oversharing, I think that by telling others, we lessen our load. I have told all kinds of family members and friends about having to hold my daughter firmly by the arms while they did a catheter, and I know that it wasn't a "pain olympics" I just really want somebody to tell me that it is okay, to understand how freaking miserable that was, for her and for me. She walked away A-okay, and I am still shell shocked. I HATE IT. No unicorns. I found this whole bloggy world and have enjoyed it because now I know that I am not the only one that loses their mind and behaves badly, that loves their kid wildly and laughs at inappropriate times.... You are my friend and you never even had a choice:)

I almost feel like it is pointless to write this comment, because you have so many other great comments to read, but I will go ahead anyway...

When my 3 year old was in CHEO with a very bad case of pneumonia and things kept worse and he needed surgery and a chest tube to drain fluid for 4 days and an oxygen mask, and countless IV's and blood work and CT scans and xrays, I absolutely did not want to talk to anyone at all. Except my direct family. I pretty much hated the world and my situation and felt that it was a very personal thing, what we were going through. How could I just update my facebook status with my fear? There was nothing I could say, and even though I love to write, it did not help in those days. After, I could talk about it. But not during that nightmare. I guess we all deal with these difficult situations differently. Reading about your story and your fear, and others like you, I can relate, and I appreciate you writing them down, because after it was all over, I did the same. I did not take any calls, even, from all my friends who were concerned and calling me. I told my husband I did not want visitors. (We got visitors anyway...) Those 14 days were dreadful, and I just could not find any comfort in sharing my fear at that time. I'm glad you're still blogging.

I have never had to write or dread writing/talking about a serious illness with my children. I DO believe that writing is helpful, even carthartic, when dealing with stress and the unknown. Your readers want to be there for you. What I have found through the years and months of reading many blogs is that when YOU touch someone's heart with your writing, then we NEED and WANT to let you know that we hear you, that we are here and that we want to know how you are doing.

I think a writer has to write what ever is singing to them at any given time. It's something I don't think we always have control over. Sometimes the most painful things aren't ready to be written about until years later. I also believe that a blog is whatever you want it to be... what is "oversharing" for one reader is most likely a lifeline for another :)

Do what you need to do, when you need to do it. Unicorns have their place, but so does pain and honesty.

I would guess that sharing on the interwebs can sometimes be easier than sharing IRL- because you can assume we have a little more distance from the immediacy of your pain. (Except for trolls-who can be callous in their lack of empathy.

I couldn't quit either. I stopped everything. And then came back to twitter, came back to CMB, and ultimately came back to Cheaty Monkey. I couldn't write about what I was going through -- still can't -- and so I couldn't write. But, not writing made everything WORSE. So, I came back. And am vowing no pressure. I will write what I can, what I want (even if it's fear, anxiety, etc.).

Aristotle said that tragedy served the purpose of Catharsis (it's been a long time...).... When you write about your pain and anxiety, you connect with us (your readers) on a soul level. It's healthy. It teaches. It brings awareness. It enables us to support you. I don't seem to have the words, but I do not believe there's such a thing as oversharing hurt. I think it's brave and it's service to others.... Happy is good, but we have all the parenting magazines -- with the glossy and airbrushing -- for that, right?

Yes, I for one think the internets need more unicorns. I have seen so much fighting and kicking people while they are down lately that I wonder if we are better off since we have the internets or if we are actually worse off than before they came along. With all our cell phones and twitter machines we rarely talk in person anymore and nealy never interact with people around us, especially strangers that we used to talk to in lines or at doctors offices, things like that.I read comments all over the place about people bashing mothers while their babies are struggling to live, bashing because identities are kept private, bashing because ideas are differing. So much hatred and bullying going on lately that it's dragging us all down.I am not talking about your site, I am talking about the global internet situation of just plain mean that seems to be rampant lately.It can't ALL be unicorns and butterflies, but they sure would be welcomed all over the internets once in awhile. And if people in general could be a little nicer to each other, that'd be great also.Just my opinion !!

Even when I write it is in a far more private forum than you've chosen. There's a part of me that simply shies away from the reality of sharing that much.

But even in my own journal, that quiet private place safe from virtually all censure because it is filled with friends who love me unconditionally- there are some entries that are too deep- too private- to share.

I lock those away on a private setting... but I write them. I write them as though to that audience because even the thought that this time I might be willing to share by the time I get to the end is enough for the writing to be as cathartic as it needs to be.

Do as you must whenever it happens, but this faceless person would miss your warm voice. =)

I don't know. I don't have anything great to say, except that I am so glad Emilia is okay and I'm so sorry you went through that. My heart ripped a little reading your post. My little girl was rushed to the hospital 2 days after birth after having convulsions. It was a week in hospital of hellish testing and watching my baby get lumbar punctures, brain scans, EKGs, etc. Just like you, I shut down my computer and phone and didn't speak to anyone about it, for many of the same reasons. To this day many of my good friends have no idea what happened that week and how it left a huge imprint on who I am. I do wish now that I had reached out and told people when it happened. I needed help and support. They would understand me better now and it's harder to express it after the fact. Anyway, that's my overshare for the day. More unicorns is a must, though. Life is tough sometimes, though, so no need to just be happy when it really just sucks. There's something great about wallowing in pain, too. Most art wouldn't exist without it!

I almost didn't comment because I just posted today in a pretty similar vein. Only I caved and bitched and cried. And I had guilt so I apologized all over myself.Then was upset with myself because I keep so.much.in.

Should I have to feel the need to apologize for writing about my life? Even when the ratio of hard vs. rainbows is unequal?

I think that everyone is so different with how they feel, cope and blog to answer you question adequately.

If it helps you to write about difficulty, do it. If it exacerbates your pain, don't.

No one can feel as much pain and fear by listening to your story as you do. Not even close. So, I tend to think that needing to write out something and doing so is much more of a help to the author than stress on readers.

There IS something to be said about people in comments exacerbating things when you are vulnerable, and that is something you have to weigh.

Personally, I feel that more of the blogging world tends to shy away from sharing deep, tough, hard things. More often it seems coated with an impossibly happy, content,I'm fine, sunshiney veneer. Which is great if it is how they cope and deal.

I DO NOT WANT NOR NEED THE PRESSURE TO DO THE SAME.

It makes my shit tougher.

I usually try (not hard as it is my personality) to make my blog a funny place. Even when blogging about hard stuff. Because there is a lot of hard stuff in my life.

But it's a lot of pressure. To find the unicorns. To be expected to do so while holding in your own just because other people have pain, even a LOT of pain, blows.

I opt to release some of it on my blog to be capable of being more positive for my children and family.

It helps me. They don't have the option of clicking off my blog page. My readers do.

I think there is room for blogging the hard stuff (even a lot of the time) if it helps and you need to.

If people find it overwhelming, well...isn't that what www.cuteoverload.com is for?

Haley-O said in her comments what I have been thinking about lately in reference to your blog - it teaches. When you share what you write, what you are feeling, and you explore the depths of your feelings and responses, and invite us into the discussion/debates with you, you teach. You teach empathy, and different ideas, and offer a way for people to possibly view a little bit of another perspective or two, or more.

Over sharing hurt? I don't know that that's possible, among friends. Among people who choose to continue in a dialogue with you, through whatever medium. Among friends, we are allowed to obsess, a little, about what truly irritates us, and scares us, and delights us. That's what friends do. And as other posters have said, we do feel like your friend even though you don't know who we are. We choose to continue in this dialogue with you, because we care. And if you are getting too much over the top - you can count on a friend or two to gently point that out to you. And you get to decide if you want to stop, or continue.

Do you need to consciously work to bring less angst and more unicorns??? Only if that's what you need to write about. It's your choice, your dialogue. I, for one, am happy to read about your angst, and unicorns, and everything in between... Don't stop writing until YOU CAN'T write on this blog anymore. It's not about us, it's for you.

I think there is such a thing as oversharing hurt. But it's up to us readers to read or not. I read less of you lately because I can't take sadness these days, but it's my problem, not yours, one less reader (me) does not make a difference in your community, especially since I don't blog, I just read.

I think we write what we need to write, at least I hope we do. Can we get in ruts? You bet, but they shouldn't lead to quitting, rather to renewal. I find your writing exquisite, joyous and sorrow-soaked alike.

It feels terrible to say so, but the losses and fears in the blogosphere have helped me better appreciate the time I spend with my son this week (per one of the posts of yours that you linked to). How awful to benefit in that way from others' terrible losses. But, it does drive home the message about how valuable our time together is and how little we should take for granted.

No, I don't think there's such a thing as oversharing, really. Those who know you will want to know, those who don't probably won't show up, and those dealing with similar situations may (hopefully) stumble across what you've written and find it helpful. Or so I think...

I'm so glad to know Emilia is better; I look forward to hearing of her latest antics soon. :-)

One of the things I learned very early on (and continue to re-learn) in my journey as a mama to a child with multiple special needs and who spent the first 7 months of his life in the hospital is this:

My child's disabilities aren't any more painful for me than another's might be. My personal pain is not deeper, more significant, or any more meaningful than anyone else's...it is all simply *different* and sharing it is an important part of dealing with it. Knowing when and how to share it is useful but sometimes you just have to share it and trust that those who know you know you need their love to help soothe the hurt.

I hope you won't ever just walk away from your blog without letting *someone* know you're ok. We care and we'd worry. Even if we were in our own pain. This I know.

MGM - fear of responses (and, yeah, sometimes, lack thereof) is a big part of it. when I`m feeling raw, I can`t bear the thought of dealing with even the slightest snark. which is why I so often close comments.

We're all in this world together. Writing about your pain is a natural thing to do, just the same as writing about your happiness or your anger. It just means you are normal, that you are human. Like the rest of us.

I just drafted a post about the early days with dealing with my daughter's emotional meltdowns. I don't know if I can bring myself to publish it.

I write about my daughter's selective mutism, because there's so little firsthand stories about it. But I don't want to bring out the really dark days, because I don't know if it's helpful for others to know how bad things got before they got better.

I don't know the answer to whether or not I'm going to publish that post. It's very personal, but I know I get really heartfelt responses from other mothers of selectively mute children when I share some of the struggles we've gone through. They don't feel quite so alone and consequently I don't feel so alone either.

I have never been able to share anything in real life. No one understands in my life, but online readers do, and I get support and encouragement.

You do not overshare your hurt. I don't know if that is possible, but I know that sometimes I feel that others are oversharing their hurt with me. I think that actually when we share our hurt it disapates (spelling?) some ... at least when I am hurting/scared and keep it to myself it seems a lot bigger than if I share it. I am not sure that sharing is always the RIGHT thing to do (if we want to get into judgments).

Anyway, thanks for continuing to write. Believe it or not, reading about your life (including but not limited to when you are hurting / scared) is very helpful to me and at times makes my own hurt/fears smaller.

The other thing I forgot to mention - sometimes, when I do share some personal stories, it's for the express purpose of trying to help others avoid some of the same traps I fell into. I write not just to get things off my chest, but really, hopefully my honesty could help someone else so that they don't have to go through what I have and so they don't have to feel so alone in dealing with similar issues. I feel posting personal struggles is not just worth it but actually needs to be done. Sometimes not talking about things means you won't be able to help that one person (or more) going through similar issues. I think the whole purpose in life is to help each other through it. I think the internet is a great way to give and receive help, even if it's just psychological support to each other.

I honestly wish there were more people talking honestly and from the heart about family life and some of the more difficult aspects (illness, depression, etc). Not to joke about it, or ridicule it, but to realize that we all have our capabilities and our limits and they ebb and flow with the events that happen to us. There's only one way out of this life, we need to help each other while we can.

Sharing our personal stories thoughtfully, honestly, and respectfully is a good thing. Sharing ideas, advice and positive support for one another is a WONDERFUL thing. I would not know as much as I do now about Selective Mutism if I hadn't been able to share stories with other moms through the internet.

I think that with this whole "community" thing - I think we need to support one another when that person is in need of support - and if you're hurting, you should share your hurt (if you feel so led). When you feel like sharing unicorns, do so. When you're hurting, share your hurt.

please keep writing. in a world that is so sterile, so separate, so divided - connecting with other humans by any means necessary is vital to our survival. IMHO. plus, on top of your tremendously gifted talent and blatant honesty, you seem like one cool chick I wouldn't mind hanging out with on a friday night and talk about kids, life, love, loss, laughter...peace to you and your family...

It's your blog. You write for you. You write when you're ready. If there are days when you can't or don't want to or need to or want to or anything in between...you just do what you can do when you can do it.

I love reading your blog. It's just...real...you know? And it's inspiring. I actually started a blog entry after reading one of yours. And it took me awhile to get the "courage" to share that post with the world. But I did. And I was thinking about you...and your courage.

I think there are times that we simply do need to let the grief out and your family is going through a process. DOn't overanalyze what you want to share and what you dont, you are simply on a path many wont have to take.

You can never share too much. Watching a child die, is life transforming, when it is your own it changes who you are

I know this from personal experience. As I watched my Sam die it was the hardest day of my life. The days before are now all a mesh. Even 16 years later it is hard because the memory is forever embedded.

In the days ahead it is ok to break down, to close out the world, to regroup, to simply be. Some days will be better then others and when Tanner's journey here is done, dont forget to celebrate the best of him, and to smile, and laugh, and enjoy yours because that is what they would want for you.

So terrifying. I'm so glad that she's better. I think that's the flip side of the internet--I mean, it brings us closer and we laugh together, but when tragedy strikes, we all feel it. Maybe it's not the internet as much as life. No man is an island and all that.

Thank you for this...for this irony of writing about what we cannot write about. To me, for me, that's what blogging has been all about.

I have struggled similarly, as we probably all have. There is much I don't write about, lots of backspacing in my house (and yup, on my phone). We do what we can do. It's good enough.

On a parting note, I send you a song...it's called "Cactus" by my favorite singer/songwriter, Ferron. Check it out if you want. I have a feeling it will be of help. As I read your post, I heard her singing the line, "...and remember, what is shared is also true."

Oooh: "Pain shared is halved; joy shared is limitless." That is interesting to think about. I like it.

I have wondered the same question, though.

I have been through times when nothing seemed to be working out well and everyone around me seemed to be suffering through something horrible and altogether I felt it was changing who I was and I no longer recognized myself and that scared me.